Super 8: The Colonel's Niece
by HeyDreamer
Summary: Killian, the niece of Air Force Colonel Nelec, is on a mission to protect an alien being hunted by her uncle and save the world, no matter what it takes. At first, she feels the best way to do that is alone. But when a short, brace-toothed pyromaniac catches her attention, she starts to rethink her priorities. [I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE STORYLINE OR CHARACTERS FROM "SUPER8"]
1. Prologue

"You can't do this!" I exclaimed at Colonel Nelec, my uncle. I was forced to live with the asshat when both my parents died. (Supposedly, nobody knows how they died, but I had a feeling it had something to do with my uncle's top-secret Air Force work. I know all about it, of course.)

"Get out of the way, Killian!" Nelec yelled, approaching me angrily.

"Just let it leave!" I cried. "Please, it just wants to go home!"

"NO! It's mine!" he snarled. I couldn't believe how childish he was being, not to mention cruel.

"I won't let you do this. I don't care what you do to me, but I won't let you treat it like an object. It's cruel, no matter what it is, no matter where it's from."

He glared at me. "Then you leave me no choice," he growled lowly. He picked up my 80-pound body, tossing me over his shoulder, then threw me in one of the other train cars. I didn't have a chance to protest (not that it would've mattered; the only people who know about any of this are sworn to secrecy) before the door was shut and I was immersed in total darkness.


	2. Chapter 1

_What the hell? _is my first thought when I open my eyes. I must have fallen asleep on the train ride. I try to move, but feel pain searing all over my body. I look around frantically: I am lying under a large piece of metal.

Suddenly, I hear voices. Someone, a young boy from the sound of the voice, calls, "Joe! Oh my God, guys! Did you see those explosions?! That was unbelievable!"

Explosions. Then I understand. The train crashed, and the piece of metal I'm under must be some of the debris. I have to get out. I try to move, but feel only pain. Alright, Plan B: I need to get these guys' attention. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out, as if my voice has completely left me.

"Shit, shit, shit," another boy repeated.

"What's all that blood?" A girl's quiet voice asks. It's silent for a few seconds. "What's the blood?" she repeats. "Did someone get hurt?"

Another second, then several voices start shouting as a hand reaches under the piece of debris I'm stuck under. Here's my chance. I grab the person's wrist and he shouts, clearly startled.

"What? What is it?!" the first voice shouts.

"What the—" the person peeks under the debris; it's a young boy, around my age. "Who are you?" he whispers.

_Help, _I wheeze out.

He ducks back out. "Guys! Get over here and help me lift this."

"Why?" a new voice.

"There's someone caught under here!"

I hear footsteps, then grunting, and the hunk of metal is lifted off me. Suddenly, I can breathe again. I take a deep breath, only to cough and sputter violently. But it hurts to do that, too, so I roll over and wrap my arms around my stomach. That hurts even worse. No matter what I do, I feel pain. All I can do is go limp, so that's what I do, then I start to silently cry.

Everyone talks at once.

"Oh my God," a curly-haired boy says.

"What the hell?" a chubby boy whisper-yells.

"Who is that?" the only girl asks softly.

"Shit, man," a tall boy croaks before turning and vomiting.

Another dark-haired boy, the one I grabbed, kneels down next to me, and a short, blond boy with braces stands on my other side. "Are you okay?" the dark-haired one asks. He rolls me onto my back again and I wince.

"Dude, she's obviously not okay, look at her!" the blond exclaims. "We have to get her to a hospital."

"No!" I grab both of their wrists. "You can't," I rasp. "They can't-can't know I was here. Th-that you were here."

"You're going to die if you don't," the curly-haired one steps forward. "It looks like you've lost a lot of blood, and you probably have broken bones. I-I'm surprised you're not dead already."

"I'll be fine," I tell them, though I think I'm more reassuring myself. "Just help me up."

"I don't think that's a good idea," the blond warns. He doesn't sound concerned, but his face says otherwise.

"I'll be fine. I just need to get up and around."

The blond and the dark-haired boy sigh, but try helping me up. As soon as I get to my feet, my knees buckle and I fall on all fours, coughing up blood.

"Yeah, we're taking you to a hospital," the blond decides.

"No!" I protest. I lean back against another piece of metal and try to catch my breath.

"Why? Why is it so important that nobody knows that any of us were here?" the dark-haired one asks.

I look at him and take a few more breaths before asking, "What happened? Did you see how the train crashed?"

"Yeah… there was a truck on the tracks."

"Whose truck?"

"Does it matter?"

"Just answer the question!"

"Okay, okay. I don't know whose it was."

"We need to find that truck," I tell him. He looks completely lost. "Believe me, it could be important."

He shakes his head, but gives in and hooks my arm around his shoulder.

"I-I think I can carry her," the tall boy with glasses stutters. He walks over and shakily puts his arms under my back and knees, then easily lifts me off the ground.

As the others poke around the debris, I look around and spot a train car. "See if one of you can get up there and look around."

The blond finds his way up, then the others, except for the boy holding me.

"There!" I hear one of the boys shout. "Come on, let's go." They all climb down and we run (slowly, since one of them is carrying me) towards the truck.

"Guys, is that him?" the chubby one asks.

I look over to the truck, practically torn in half from the crash. "I knew it," I breathe. They all turn to me, confused. "Set me down in the passenger seat, please?" I ask the one holding me.

"What, why?"

I groan. "Just do it, please." He does as I ask and sets me down, then I turn to the black man, my only friend from the Air Force, and set a hand on his shoulder. "Dr. Woodward?" I shake him slightly and his arm falls off the dashboard, a piece of paper falling out of his hand and onto the floor. The girl picks it up, but I pay them no mind. I shake Dr. Woodward's shoulder again. He suddenly sits up and groans. The others scream and back away from the truck. "Dr. Woodward, it's me," I say softly. "Killian?"

He looks to me. "Killian, what are you doing here?"

"I tried to stop Nelec, and he threw me on the train."

He looks past me to the other kids. "What are they doing here?"

I glance at them and shrug, instantly regretting it as pain shoots through me. I swallow hard. "They must've been here when it happened."

He looks back at me. "They must not tell anyone about this," he tells me.

"I know, I told them that. But…" My gaze shifts again to the kids. "I'm not sure they listened."

"Go," he rasps. I look to the boy with glasses and wave him over. Cautiously, he inches towards the truck and picks me up again. Then I look back to Dr. Woodward, just as he pulls out a gun. The others scream and step away again. "They will kill you," he warns them. "Do not speak of this, or else you, and your parents… will die."

**[Hope you guys liked this. Please review to let me know!]**


	3. Chapter 2

I hear distant shouting and glance in their direction to see people with flashlights, and I know our time is up. "We have to leave," I tell them.

Dr. Woodward points the gun in our direction. "Go!" he shouts.

Everyone screams and we all run back in the direction we came. The girl opens the door to a yellow car with black stripes and screams at the boys when they start running around it, gathering up objects that must have been the reasons they were here: a camera and tripod, a makeup kit, a backpack. The boy carrying me sets me down in the passenger seat and goes to help.

After they put their things in the trunk, the cubby boy, the curly-haired boy, and the one who carried me pile into the back. The girl slides into the driver's seat, and the other two boys next to her. I'm slightly squished between the blond and the passenger door, but it's not as bad as my headache is getting with all the shouting, mostly from the back. The chubby one is fussing over his camera, while the others are simply freaking out over what they just witnessed. I groan and let my head fall against the window. The blond turns around, "Guys, shut up!" I can feel their eyes on me as they quiet down.

"Thank you," the girl sighs. "It's hard enough to drive without everyone yelling." After a few seconds of silence, she adds, "We can't tell anyone we were there; my dad can't find out I took his car.

"It's okay," the boy next to her says. "We're not saying anything to anyone." He turns around. "We aren't, are we?" he says lowly to the guys in the back.

"No," they all agree.

Silence, and again I can feel their eyes on me. I sigh and turn slightly. "What were you guys doing there?"

"We should ask you the same thing," the chubby one retorts.

"I asked first," I scoff, annoyed.

"We're filming a movie," the dark-haired one in front replied. "We were doing one of the scenes at the station."

I nod.

"So… who are you?" the blond asks.

"My name's Killian, and I can't tell you who I am. It'd just put you all in more danger."

"Why?" the girl questions. "Does it have to do with why we can't tell anyone about what happened tonight?"

"Yes." My eyes widen, suddenly thinking of what they could've seen. I turn to all of them, ignoring the pain. "Did any of you see what was on that train?"

"No…" the black-haired boy in back says, "other than those little white cubes." I sigh in relief and sit back again.

"What were those, anyway?"

"I can't say."

"Why?"

"Did you not hear Dr. Woodward?!" I exclaim suddenly. The girl flinches. "Sorry." I remember that shouting distracts her. "Look, you're already sworn to secrecy about the train crash in general, not to mention me. If anyone found out that you were there, they will automatically assume you know too much and you _will _be killed, and your parents. Dr. Woodward wasn't kidding around."

It is silent again for a few seconds. "Why?" someone asked.

I don't have time to respond, because the girl pulls into a hospital parking lot. "Wait, no. I said not to take me to the hospital!"

"You are severely wounded!" the girl argues. "Preston was right, you could die if you do not get medical attention."

"If anyone finds out that I was there and still alive and that you helped me, we'll all be killed! Why can't you get that through your heads?"

"So, what, we're supposed to leave you to die?" the blond asks incredulously.

"Yes!"

They stare at me in disbelief. Then, at the worst time possible, I feel liquid crawl up my throat. I open the door to spit blood onto the pavement.

"Alright, that's it, you're going," the boy next to the girl says. The girl gets out and he follows as the blond helps me out.

"Okay, okay, fine," I give in. "Just – wait a second." I reach into a pocket of my camouflage cargo pants and, thankfully, my wallet is still there. I search it for my fake I.D. If the hospital finds that I'm underage, they'll call the police and, eventually, my guardian. I find it and put it in front of my real I.D. Although I'm 13 and only 4'9", I almost have the figure and face of an older teen, so I can pull off being just a short 18-year-old.

"Alright," I say. "Fine, let's go." I pause. "Wait, you guys can't come. You can't be seen with me."

"Well one of us has to help you get up there," the blond says.

I sigh and look around, thinking. "Okay… one of you take me up there, without being seen, and drop me off by the door. Someone's bound to walk in or out eventually and see me.

"No way! There's no guarantee that someone will find you soon enough. One of us will take you in."

I huff, frustrated, but nod in agreement.

"I'll take her," the blond says. He puts my arm around his shoulder and lifts me up. He's only a couple inches taller than me.

"If anyone asks, I'm your cousin, visiting for the summer. We were, oh, I dunno, say we were screwing around with fireworks – that'll explain why we smell like smoke and are covered in ash – and I fell out of a tree." I tell him.

"The fireworks thing sounds just like you, Cary," the chubby one snickers at the blond.

"Shut up, man," Cary mutters.

Then I remember that I don't know any of the kids' names. "Who are you guys, anyway?" I ask.

"Well, I'm Cary, obviously," the blond says. "That's Alice and Joe," he points to the girl and the dark-haired boy. "That's Preston," he nods at the curly-haired one. "The fatty is Charles, and that's Smartin."

"Oh my God, Cary!" Smartin shouts angrily then looks at me. "It's Martin." I giggle, and then cough up blood again.

"Okay, time to go," Cary says as he starts dragging me away.

"Hang on," Alice calls. "What do we do?"

"I'll just walk home," Cary decides on the spot. "You guys go ahead."

"Thanks for doing this," I tell him.

"No problem. So, how do you know Dr. Woodward? I mean, I've never seen you, so obviously it's not from school."

"That is yet another thing I can't tell you."

He sighs heavily. "That's really frustrating, you know. All we know about all the shit that happened tonight is that your name is Killian, you know Dr. Woodward from somewhere, and for some reason you were on a cargo train. Oh, and also we'll be killed, along with our parents, if we say anything."

"I'm sorry, I really am. I wish I could tell you, but until all of this blows over, it's better for everyone that you don't know, don't say anything, and just go on with life as usual."

"I don't think any of us will go on with life as usual after all that. I mean, I might, since explosions don't really faze me, but the others…" Cary trails off.

"Yeah, what was that Charles said about you and fireworks?"

He chuckles awkwardly. "I'm kind of obsessed with fire. Extreme pyromaniac."

"Nice," I laugh lightly as we approach the doors of the hospital. I cross my fingers, hoping we won't get caught.

**[Reviews are much appreciated!]**


	4. Chapter 3

Cary is still here when I wake up sometime the next day, sleeping in the chair by the hospital room window. The doctors put me under to perform surgery. I had a few broken and cracked ribs, some pretty deep cuts and bad burns, and a fractured knee. But I don't really care. Everyone bought our story and nobody called the cops or any parents.

Speaking of parents… "Cary," I call softly. He grunts in his sleep, but doesn't wake. "Cary!" I whisper-shout. He sits up and rubs his eyes, mumbling to himself.

"Oh, hey, Kill, you're awake," he says in a groggy voice. "You don't mind if I call you Kill, right?"

"Sure. Listen, you should probably go home. I don't want your parents to freak out."

He scoffs. "Pssh, my parents don't even know I left last night, and," he glances at his watch, "they probably think I'm still asleep. Anyway, they're probably at work."

"If you're sure…"

"I'm sure. So, how are you feeling?"

"Much better. A little sore, but happy we haven't been caught."

He frowns a little and looks down. "It's really serious, isn't it?" He glances up at me. I nod solemnly. "Damn." I feel terrible, making him and his friends keep their mouths shut for something so huge. But I'll feel worse if they're killed.

"Hello, Haley," a nurse addresses me by my fake name and smiles brightly. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. When can I leave?"

She laughs. "I'm not sure. The doctors are going to run a few tests soon, then you should have your answer."

After she checks a few things and leaves, I turn to Cary. "So, what's that movie you're working on?"

"Oh, yeah," he clears his throat. "There's some Super 8 film contest Charles wants to enter. So we're making this zombie movie. Martin is the main character, Detective Hathaway, and he's investigating these murders. But they're zombie murders. I'm the zombie." He smiles proudly. "Alice is Hathaway's wife – Charles just decided that yesterday; he's the director. Last night we were shooting a scene where Hathaway's wife is at the train station, about to head to Michigan while he investigates the murders, and she's trying to convince him to drop the case."

"What are the others doing?"

"I'm the camera man when I'm not the zombie; Joe is costume, makeup, and sound; and Preston is… everything else. Whatever we need him for."

"Sounds fun."

"You should stick around after you get out of here, I'm sure Charles would love to have an extra hand."

I hesitate. "I don't know."

"Right, top-secret-can't-get-caught. So, what are you gonna do when you do get out?"

"I… I don't know."

"You don't have anyone you can stay with?"

"Well I don't exactly know anybody here. And, well… let's just say I don't have any friends or other family other than my uncle. And nobody, especially my uncle, can find out I survived the train crash."

"Well then, you'll have to stay with one of us," he says. I start to protest, but he continues, "Joe's off – his dad is the deputy, Charles has too many siblings, Alice's dad is pretty much the town drunk, so that wouldn't be a good idea, and Preston is too much of a goodie-goodie to take in someone like that. So really, that just leaves Martin and me. And… I'm a little afraid of how my parents would react if they found out. It's unlikely – my parents haven't even seen my room in like two years – but still…"

"I don't need any of you guys to take me in," I argued.

"So you'll live in a cardboard box? I don't think that's gonna work out very well in this town."

"You all are in enough danger already—"

"Okay, I thought we'd established this, but apparently we haven't." Cary leans forward and his eyes bore into mine. His arms fly out. "None of us gives two shits about that. It probably won't even come up in conversation."

It doesn't exactly come up in conversation, but the next afternoon Charles decides that filming on the hill above the train crash will be good production value. Cary is playing the zombie for this scene. (He's a very good zombie. I make a mental note for after the scene is over to compliment Joe on his makeup work and Cary on his acting.) I lay down on the hill so as not to be seen by my uncle's Air Force group "cleaning up" the devastation of the crash. I know that what they're really doing is gathering the cubes and looking for their "precious cargo" and me.

"CUT!" Charles shouts once Cary falls to the ground after being shot. "That was mint! Oh my God, with the train? So good!" Then he starts barking out orders to everyone.

"Guys," Cary says, running over and taking out his zombie eyes. "Did it really look good, my death?"

"I thought it was great," I grin, still lying on my stomach. He beams. "And Joe!" Joe turns around from messing with the camera. "Nice makeup work."

"Thanks," he brushes it off and walks to the edge of the hill with Alice.

"What do you think happened?" Alice asks.

"You mean why'd he crash the train?" Joe confirms.

She speaks softer now, but I can still hear her. "Bet Killian knows."

"But she won't tell us."

"I know. I just…" she sighs. "I've got a horrible feeling."

The others, besides Charles, who just wants to get back to filming, join them at the edge of the hill. I army-crawl towards them and peek over the top as Joe runs back to bring the camera over. He looks through it at the wreckage. "That whole thing's an Air Force train," Joe realizes.

"What?" Alice, along with the others, turns to look at me.

"What were you doing on an Air Force train?" Cary asks.

I sigh and let my head fall onto the grass. "Do you guys even care that that information could kill you?"

"No," they all collectively reply. I sigh again.

Thankfully, Charles interrupts, "Who cares? Let's get going and re-do the scene again!" He grabs the camera and walks back to the spot where they're shooting the scene. They all follow him and do the scene over again, then we pack up and head to a diner in town.

"So, how do you know it's an Air Force train?" Alice asks Joe once we're all sat down in a booth and finished ordering our food. Charles, Alice, and Preston sit on one side, while Martin, Joe, Cary and I sit on the other.

"I make models," Joe replies. "Like, plastic ones. You know, glue them, paint them."

"And he's not embarrassed by that," Preston teases him.

"Look who's talking, Math Camp!" Cary shot at Preston.

A waitress comes by to give Charles his fries. "Thanks," Charles says. "Can I have a coffee please? Cream on the side." The waitress nods and leaves.

"He's so sophisticated," Cary mocks.

"Shut up, I like coffee," Charles defends with a mouthful of fries.

"No one likes coffee," Cary retorts.

"Air Force trains," Joe continues, "even the models have these hooks."

"Ooh, they do!" Preston blurts. "For when the trains are loaded onto the transport ships."

"Every car in that crash had hooks."

"Joe, would you just stop talking about it?" Charles interjects, glancing warily at me.

"Wait, guys," Martin cuts in, confused. "Am I the only one who doesn't understand what any of this means?"

"Probably, Smartin," Cary teases.

"Cary, shut up!" Martin protests.

"You shut up!"

"I don't like it when you call me that."

"I'm sorry Smartin," Cary pretends to pout. "Let's just go cry about it."

"No, I don't want to," Martin mumbles. I look down and chuckle to myself.

"Killian," my head shoots up as Joe addresses me. "Come on, you have to give us something."

"I'm trying to protect you guys," I argue.

"We won't say anything, we swear!" Cary assures me. "I mean, we'd already be killed by our parents if they knew we were there."

I sigh. "Okay, you're right about it being an Air Force train, I'll give you that."

"But why were you on it?" Martin asks. "I mean, there's no way you can be Air Force."

"Obviously," I direct at him, then turn back to the others. "My uncle is a colonel, that's how I got there. Now, please. Quit. Asking." I sit back in my seat to demonstrate that I'm done with this conversation.

"Hey! Pussy!" Cary shouts at Charles after a minute of silence. "Stop taking all the fries away."

"I ordered these for a reason," Charles shoots back.

The waitress walks by at that moment. "Excuse me," Cary grabs her attention, "can we get another order of fries? Because my friend here is fat." She looks at him funny, but nods and walks away. Cary busts out laughing.

"Funny, Chompers." Charles swats Cary. "At least I don't need a booster seat." Cary flings a fry back at him. I can't help but snicker.

"Do we amuse you, my lady?" Cary jokes.

"Very much," I giggle. Really, I'm just thankful they've changed the subject.

As if reading my mind, Cary says, "Sorry we keep pressuring you to tell us stuff. Obviously it's a really touchy subject."

"It's a little more than touchy…" I reply softly.

"Sorry," he repeats.

"It's okay as long as you stop asking and don't say anything to anyone else."

"We won't," he assures me. "Promise."

**[Please review! Hope you enjoyed!]**


	5. Chapter 4

Exiting the diner, Cary mentions my living situation. "She doesn't have anywhere to go," he tells everyone, walking backwards in front of us. "I took into account all of your living situations, and the best options are probably me or Smar – er, Martin." Ha. Suck up.

"Me?" Martin blurts incredulously. "Why m– wait, you called me Martin!" He grins.

Cary ignores the comment about his name and explains his reasoning just like he did in the hospital with me. Martin groans. "Why can't she stay with you?"

"She can," Cary retorts. "I was just asking in case, you know, you _wanted _her to stay with you." He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"Why would I want her to stay with me?" Martin asked, totally lost. Everyone else groans simultaneously. "What?" he says.

"Forget it, Smartin. She can stay with me." Cary falls back in pace with us and links his arm with mine.

"You don't have to," I remind him.

"Yeah, well, I want to," he replies nonchalantly.

"Oh, really?" I shoot him a look.

He realizes how that sounded and lets go of my arm, blushing. "O-okay, woah. I-I didn't mean like that!" he protests.

"Well why not?!" I shout angrily. He opens and closes his mouth, but nothing but a jumble of stuttered words comes out. I laugh and everyone else joins me. Cary pouts. I ruffle his hair. "Aw, did I hurt your pride?"

"Shut up," he grumbles. The guys laugh again.

"You know, Killian," Joe says, "you're pretty cool when you're not talking about the top-secret train crash stuff."

"I'm pretty good at breaking noses, too," I tell him with fake excitement. His smile fades and I laugh. "I'm kidding, chill out. Yes, I have a sense of humor." I turn to Cary. "So how is this living situation going to work?"

"Yeah, I guess we should get on that." He turns to the rest of the gang. "Hey, guys. I think I'm gonna take Kill back to my place. It's getting kinda late. We filming tomorrow?"

"Yeah, my house, 10 AM," Charles informs us, then grabs the collar of Cary's shirt. "Don't. Be. Late."

Cary throws up his hands in mock innocence. "Alright, man, chill." Charles releases him, continuing to glare whilst walking towards his house. We say goodbye to everyone and Cary leads me in what I'm guessing is the direction of his house. "So, I'll warn you in advance: my parents get mad about everything. Literally. So we'll have to be extra sneaky."

"Cary–"

"Nope," he interrupts. "That's not what I'm saying. Look, as long as you stay in my room, we should be fine." We stop at a small house at the end of the street. "This is me. So… you'll have to sneak in through the window…"

"Where's your room?"

"Around back. Wait back there and I'll let you in." I limp around the house and into the backyard, first making sure that no one is back there. There are three windows, so I just wait in the corner until I see him.

Five minutes pass. Ten. Where the hell is he? It's getting dark. I start to worry. Just as I'm about to go around and knock on the door, or look through the windows, the one nearest me opens and Cary's head pops out. "Hey, sorry, my parents wanted to talk to me." I sigh in relief.

"That's okay. Had me worried there for a second, though."

"Sorry," he chuckles nervously and helps me through the window. "On the bright side, they're leaving for a while. Won't be home 'til, like, two or three, probably."

"That's good," I say when I'm through the window. His room isn't as messy as I expected. In fact, it's not messy at all. No clothes on the floor, no clutter on the tables or desk, bed made. "Nice," I comment.

"Part of having strict parents," he tells me quietly. "I guess there's really no point; they never come in here anymore. Guess it's just a habit by now." He shrugs. "You can have the bed – I just washed the sheets this morning. I'll take the floor."

I shake my head. "First of all, I'm not taking your bed from you. You're doing enough just letting me stay here. Second, if your parents by chance do come in here, neither of us wants them to see me. If I take the floor on this side of your bed, nobody can see me from the door."

Cary sighs. "I guess. Alright, I'll get some stuff. Wait here." He exits the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

While I wait, I sit on his bed and look around. His door is opposite the window, and his full sized bed in the middle of the wall in between so that there's space on both sides. Nightstands, one with a lamp, are on either side fo the bed. To the left of the door is a dresser. Opposite the bed are the closet, a desk and a bookshelf. A chest is pressed against the foot of his bed. Everything is very clean and _very_ simple. It makes me a little uncomfortable.

"Okay," Cary enters with his arms full of blankets and a sleeping bag. "It gets kinda cold in here at night, so I got some extra blankets. Oh, and my parents are gone now so don't worry about being quiet or leaving the room." I help him set everything up on the floor by his bed. He gives me one of his pillows.

"Thanks again for this," I tell him.

"Don't worry about it." He grins. I do the same when I notice how cute his braces look on him. Then I look down, scolding myself for thinking that.

Cary lies down on his bed and I sit cross-legged at the foot. He reaches over to his nightstand and turns on his record player; "My Sharona" by The Knack starts playing. Cary sings the bass line and I play air drums. Then Cary starts singing and head-banging, his shaggy hair flying all over the place, and I giggle. I play air guitar when it comes to the solo, and head-bang with him.

Eventually we find ourselves jumping on his bed, singing along and head-banging and laughing. When the song is over we plop down, our heads hanging backwards over the side of the bed, and try to calm down. _Try_ is the key word. As soon as we stop laughing, we look at each other and erupt into fits of giggles.

Several minutes later, my abs are burning and my head is filled with blood. "It's so weird looking at a room upside-down," Cary comments.

"It's weird looking at the world upside-down," I add.

"What if that was how everything was? Like, what if the sky was the ground and the grass and dirt was the sky? And lights and fans were on the floor and all the furniture was on the ceiling."

"You mean, what if it suddenly changed to that?"

"Yeah."

I pause before answering. "Chaos." We laugh again. "I mean, if it would've always been that way, we wouldn't know. It'd be normal for us."

"True."

I roll over so I'm on my stomach. Cary doesn't change positions, so I take a moment to study him. He's skinny, but I can tell he still has some muscle, and he's got a decent tan. I notice his right hand is bandaged. "What happened to your hand?"

He lifts his head up and looks at his hand. "Oh." He rolls onto his stomach like me. "Bottle rocket. Didn't move my hand fast enough." Then his face lights up, his blue eyes twinkling with excitement. "Wanna go blow up some fireworks?"

I laugh loudly. "I like how you ask that right after you talk about nearly blowing off your hand."

He shrugs. "It's one of the many reasons girls find me so _hot_."

I give him a look. "Ha-ha, hilarious."

"That's another reason." I punch him lightly and get up.

"Come on, let's go."

"Wait, really?" He sits up and beams.

I giggle. "Yeah, really. As long as we'll be somewhere secluded."

"Oh, so you wanna catch me alone, do ya?" he wiggles his eyebrows seductively.

I grab a pillow and hit him, accidentally knocking him off the bed. "Shit," I laugh. "Are you okay?"

He laughs with me and gets up. "I'm fine. Wait here a sec. Let me get my fireworks from the garage."

I look around his room again and notice a photograph sticking out from under a pillow. I pick it up. It's of Cary, but he must've been younger because he doesn't have braces in the picture. He's holding a little girl, three or four years old, in his lap. They're laughing at something off to the side of the camera.

"Okay, I've got–" Cary stops in the doorway when he sees the photo. He drops his handful of fireworks and snatches the photo away, stuffing it in a drawer like his life depends on it. When he turns back to me he's looking down and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I, uh, I-I've got–"

"Cary." He looks up at me. "Who was that in the picture with you?"

"Nobody, let's go." He turns to leave but I grab his arm and make him face me.

"Cary…"

"Forget it."

"Cary," I repeat, more sternly this time.

He sighs and I can see sadness in his eyes as he does everything to avoid my gaze. He runs his hands over his face, then through his hair, gripping it tightly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Is it your sister?" I ask gently.

He shakes his head and tears fill his eyes. "Please. Please don't make me talk about it."

I should stop asking. He's stopped asking me about my situation and he's letting me stay with him; I shouldn't ask for anything else. But, for some reason, I feel like I need to know. "Cary, is that your little sister?"

He breaks down. He sits on his bed, hands still clutching his hair, and sobs violently. I sit next to him and put my arm around his shoulder. "Oh my God, Cary," I coo sympathetically.

"Why? Why'd you have to… Why'd he have to… Just, why…"

"It's okay, Cary. Let it out. Just tell me."

"It's not," he whimpers, shaking his head. "It's not okay."

"Tell me. Why is it not okay?"

After a few minutes, he sits up, sniffling. "It's my si-sister. M-my mom. Sh-she was so awf-awful t-to my dad and my s-sister and me." I rub his back comfortingly. "M-my dad left a-and took my sis-sister with him. H-he just left me. He left me to deal with my mom all by myself!" He's angry now, but still crying. "An-and then my mom met some other douchebag that's even worse than her! My hand," he holds up his bandaged hand. "I wasn't screwing around with a bottle rocket. My step dad got pissed and burned my hand on the fucking stove! When I left you waiting outside earlier? He and my mom thought it'd be a good idea to crack a few of my ribs!" He stands and pulls his shirt over his head. I see his chest first – black and blue and purple and red and even yellow – then his back – even worse. I gasp. "I've been living with this shit for five years! And nobody knows and I can't tell anybody and I don't know how much longer I can fucking take it!" He's breathing heavily and his tears have dried on his cheeks. Then, as if suddenly realizing what he's just said, he falls to his knees and starts to sob again, letting his head fall in his hands and his body curl forward.

My mind is in shock, but I feel my body slide off the bed and crawl towards him. My arms wrap around his shoulders and I stroke his hair, cradling his head in my neck. "Shhh…" I whisper. "I'm sorry, Cary." I realize now that I'm crying, too. "I'm so sorry..."

**[This was sad even to write, ugh. Review to make Cary feel better?]**


	6. Chapter 5

Cary doesn't calm down for several minutes. Part of me wishes I never made him tell me, but another part tells me it's for the best. I can help him. I will help him. I won't let his parents keep hurting him like this. I have to tell someone.

"What?" Cary lifts his head up and looks at me, a frantic look in his blue eyes. "N-no. You can't tell anyone." Shit, I must've said that last part out loud.

"Cary, your parents are beating you," I insist. "Not only is that illegal, it's just wrong. I can't just sit here and not do anything about it. I won't. I won't let them keep hurting you like this."

"Believe me, it'd be a lot worse if somebody found out. I can't believe I even told you."

"If we told the police, they'd arrest them and they couldn't hurt you anymore."

"Please, Killian. Please just don't say or do anything. Please." He's desperate, and I can see the pure fear in his eyes.

"I'll put a pin in it." He sighs in relief. "But, after all this Air Force train crash stuff is over, we're taking the pin out again." His head falls again. "And once this is all over, I can help you find your dad and your sister, too."

Cary looks back at me again, hope replacing the fear. "You can?" I nod. He looks at me for a moment before leaning forward and wrapping his arms around my neck. "Thank you."

I very carefully hug him back, not wanting to make his bruises hurt. "I don't like seeing people sad." We sit like that for a minute, and then I get an idea. "You know," I begin, pulling away, "We can find your dad and your sister right now."

He sniffs. "We can?"

I nod. "I'm connected with the Air Force, and that gets me lots of other connections. We can find and contact them in a matter of days." I start questioning him about everything he knows about his dad; he even shows me a picture. "Well, I'll get on that when I can, then."

"And then what?"

I smile softly. "One step at a time."

He nods and looks down. "You should shower," he says after a moment. He stands and goes to his dresser. He pulls out a t-shirt and a pair of gray sweats, then turns to me. "I, uh…" he blushes bright red. "I don't know about, uh, y'know, underwear and stuff…"

I giggle at his awkwardness. "If we can wash my clothes tonight, I can just go commando for now."

He blushes harder. "Uh, um, j-just, uh," he turns around and opens another drawer, pulling out a pair of boxers. "Here." He holds the clothes out to me, avoiding my gaze. "The, uh, the bathroom is right across the hall."

I take the clothes from him. "Thanks, Cary." I kiss his cheek. His face looks like it's about to catch fire. I smile and leave the room to the bathroom.

Cary comes in a few minutes after I get in to take my dirty clothes and wash them. I decide to take a bath first. The hot water calms my nerves and relaxes my muscles, while the steam soothes the headache I didn't know I had.

"Kill?" Cary's voice comes from outside.

"Yeah?"

"Your clothes are done washing."

"Wait, what? How long have I been in here?"

"An hour, at least."

"Shit. Alright, give me ten more minutes. You can set my clothes on the counter." I pull the plug and turn on the shower. After shampooing and conditioning my hair, I scrub my skin until it's red and raw. I get out and dry off, then look myself over in the mirror: my pale skin is like porcelain now, compared to how it looked before I got in the shower, covered in soot. My strawberry blond hair is smooth and shiny, and my green eyes seem darker from the moisture. I brush my hair quickly, then get dressed in my own underwear, but Cary's sweats and t-shirt.

"Wow, who are you?" Cary jokes when I walk back into his room. He's sitting at his desk, still shirtless, but changed into sweats, messing with some cherry bombs. I hand him his boxers and he puts them back.

"Watcha doing?" I ask, sitting on the edge of his desk.

He sits back in the chair. "Making M-80s out of cherry bombs."

"Impressive." He shrugs. Then, as if remembering something, he gets up and goes to his nightstand, bringing back a handful of stuff. "So, you had a shit-ton of stuff in your cargo pants." He hands me my things and sits back down.

I chuckle. "Yeah, I like to be prepared." There's my wallet and sunglasses, plus a mini-flashlight, a few small daggers, a miniature revolver, extra bullets, some small flash and smoke grenades, a lock-picking kit, and a mini First-Aid kit. Pros of having an uncle in the Air Force (and pants with lots of big pockets).

"I'm a little scared now," he chuckles nervously.

"You parents should be the ones scared." He looks up and smiles, though I see sadness in his eyes. I place my hand on his shoulder and squeeze gently. "I won't let them hurt you anymore, even if it means exposing myself. Nobody deserves to be treated like that."

"Why are you so determined to help me?"

"Why are _you_ so determined to help _me_?"

"Because you need help."

"Exactly."

"I've been dealing with this for five years; I think I can handle it."

"It's only a matter of time, Cary. Trust me, it'll only get worse. Eventually, no one will be able to help you. And keeping it to yourself is going to get to you. Five years of keeping it completely secret? You'll break down soon enough, and it won't be good." He sighs, but nods. I ruffle his hair and go to his book shelf. Lots of books about guns and fireworks. I crouch down and look at the bottom shelf, filled with records. I pull out a Pink Floyd record and put it on the record player, then go back over to the desk. I watch Cary make his M-80 in silence.

"My parents died when I was ten," I tell him. I decide I owe him an explanation for making him tell me what he did. "The only family I had left was my uncle. A few weeks ago I started looking into my uncle's work. He found out about a week ago, and threw me on the train when I tried to interfere."

"You don't have to tell me all this."

"You told me your story."

"My story won't get me killed. Hurt, yes, but not killed."

"You still don't know what my uncle's work is. And if they knew you were there, they probably would've found you by now. Now it's just a matter of keeping your mouth shut. Think you can handle that?"

"My mouth has been shut for five years."

"That's why I told you." He nods. I glance at the clock on his desk: it's already 11:00. "We should go to bed."

"But it's so early."

"It's eleven! Charles wants us at his house at ten tomorrow morning, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't wanna sleep. Besides, if I don't sleep tonight, Joe won't have to work so hard on my makeup." We laugh.

"Well I'm tired." I walk towards the door and turn the light off. Cary's desk lamp is still on, so he can see what he's doing. I jump over his bed and zip myself into the sleeping back. "Goodnight."

I hear shuffling, then Cary's head peeks from the edge of the bed, his hair hanging down. "Just like that?"

"Yep," I pop the _p_ and close my eyes, snuggling into the blankets.

"No goodnight kiss?" I can tell he's joking, but I sit up and kiss his cheek anyway, earning a blush from him. He opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes out, so he shuts it again and gets back up, only to turn off his lamp and crawl into his bed. "G-goodnight, Kill."

"Night, Cary."

**[Review? Please?]**


	7. Chapter 6

Charles's parents were gone that morning, so I was okay to go to his house. Currently, Martin is looking through his lines, Preston sitting next to him, Cary and Charles are working on Joe's dad's camera, since Charles's camera is busted, and Joe is working on Alice's zombie makeup. I'm sitting on a chair near the camera.

"Where'd you learn to do this?" I overhear Alice ask Joe, looking at her makeup in a compact mirror.

"Mostly the_ Dick Smith Monster Make-up Handbook_," he tells her.

Cary and Charles stand and walk over to them. "Hey Joe," Charles says. "We need some more footage of the train crash, obviously. You know that train model you just made?"

"Your cargo train," Carry adds, clearly excited.

"I want to blow it up and film it," Charles continues.

"Let me blow it up." Cary is nearly bouncing with excitement.

Joe hesitates, frowning, but nods. "Yeah, sure."

"Mint!" Charles exclaims at the same time Cary cheers, "Gnarly! Yes!" They head back over in my direction and Cary looks at me excitedly. I shake my head, but don't say anything.

"What?" Cary asks me.

"Nothing." I throw my hands up and look away. I feel bad for Joe; he didn't seem to want them to blow up his train.

He shrugs and turns back to the camera just as the lights flicker on and off. I freeze.

"Dude, that's bitchin'," Martin says.

"That's like the third time that's happened," Charles states, annoyed.

I shake it off and watch as Joe tells Alice how to be a zombie, then as she demonstrates. I smile when, as she moves closer to him, he starts getting nervous. She leans in and pretends to bite his neck and he gulps. Alice giggles when she pulls away, and Joe tries to play it cool. "Not bad," he exhales.

"Really?" Alice beams.

They totally like each other. That's so cute. I look down, still smiling to myself.

"What now?" I look up and Cary is looking at me funny.

"Tell you later," I say.

"Places, guys!" Charles shouts.

In this scene, Hathaway comes home and finds that his wife has been turned into a zombie. When she attacks him, he injects the antidote into her neck. She falls to the ground, convulsing, and Hathaway pulls out his gun. Tears falling from his eyes, he aims the gun at her, but just before he shoots she is cured. They hug each other, relieved.

"Cut!" Charles shouts. "That was great! Cary, move the camera to that side of the room, we're gonna shoot it from there next. Martin…" I drown him out and help Cary move the camera.

"What did you think?" Cary asks.

"I thought it was great," I tell him. "I'm an awful actress – or maybe I just hate it. I dunno. But I don't act."

"Shame. You'd be good for the camera."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, acting aside, you – uh – you'd look good on camera. I mean, you look good in general, so the camera would love you. Y-you know?"

I laugh as he blushes. "Aw, well thank you, Cary." I ruffle his hair and he scrunches up his nose in protest. I make my way over to Charles. "Hey, can I borrow your phone?" I ask so that Cary can't hear me.

"Whatever," Charles grumbles, clearly too focused on his movie.

I run to the kitchen, grab the phone, and walk to a secluded part of the house while the others shoot the scene.

When I return, they've finished shooting from that angle and are setting up for another shot. They shoot the scene once more, and then we pack up and head to the diner. Charles stops by the shop to get the film developed, first.

Thankfully, nobody brings up my situation. We all simply munch on fries and sip milkshakes.

I check my watch after about an hour. "Hey, got any quarters?" I ask Cary.

"I think so." He searches his pocket and pulls out an assortment of coins. He hands me a dollar's worth of quarters.

"Thanks," I say, then head to the phone booth in the back of the diner.

"Hello, this is Haley Jones," I tell the lady that answers my fake name.

"Ah, yes, Hayley!' the man on the other line says. "I have found the man you're looking for. Would you like me to call him for you, or should I just give you the number?"

"I'll have the number," I tell him. He reads off the number and I use a pen to write it down in my small notepad. I thank him before hanging up, then dial the number he gave me.

"Hello?" says the voice on the other line.

"Hello, is this Mr. James?" I ask.

"Yes, who is this?"

"I'm calling about your son, Cary."

Silence. "What about him?"

"It's about his living situation. I'm going to have to ask you to come back to Lillian, Ohio to retrieve him."

"I'm sorry, but I refuse to come and get him if he is still living with his mother. And, that aside, his mother will not let me near him."

"Well an abusive parent is likely to do that," I tell him.

Pause. "I know."

Alright, so he knows she's abusive. Plan B. "Mr. James, Cary's mother passed away yesterday, and Cary does not have anywhere else to go."

He pauses. "She's dead?"

"Yes, sir." It sucked to have to lie, but I need to get him here, no matter what it takes.

"I can be there in two days. Where should I meet you, or him? Who am I meeting?"

I hold in a relieved sigh. "You can meet with both of us at Carol's Diner. Noon, two days."

"I'll be there. Thank you." He hangs up and I nearly squeal with excitement. I hang up the phone and skip back over to the guys.

"Where'd you go?" Cary asks.

"Top-secret," I tell him. Surprisingly, he doesn't press further.

An hour later, we pay for our orders and head out.

"Hey, Killian." I turn to Alice. "Wanna come over for a while?"

"Sounds fun!" I smile at her and turn to Cary.

"Go ahead," he encourages me. "I've got chores anyway."

I ride with Alice on her pegs to her house. She quickly leads me up the stairs to her room. "Any reason in particular that you wanted me to come with you?"

She moves her head from side to side. "Yes and no," she says. "Really I just wanted to hang out, but then I realized that you probably don't have any clothes other than those." She gestures to my camo cargo pants and black Pink Floyd t-shirt.

"Yeah, I wore some of Cary's clothes to sleep last night while he washed mine," I admit.

"Woah," she scoffs. "Yeah, that's weird." She goes to her wardrobe and takes out a few things, including underwear. "Here." She hands them to me.

"Thanks," I tell her. I set them on a chair by the door so I won't forget them when I leave, then I sit with Alice on her bed. It's awkwardly silent, so I blurt, "I saw you and Joe this morning."

She looks at me, confused. "What do you mean?"

"When he was putting on your makeup and you pretended to be a zombie." I look at her. "You totally like him, don't you?"

She blushes and laughs airily, looking away. "I guess. I mean, I don't really know him."

"You don't have to know someone well to like them. It's just chemistry. Are you attracted to him?"

"Yeah."

"Do you enjoy his company?"

"Yeah."

"Do you get all giddy when he's around you?"

She blushes. "Yeah."

"Then you like him."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you like someone?"

I pause. "I don't know."

"Is there someone you're attracted to?"

A face comes to mind. A face with blue eyes and braced teeth. A face framed by shaggy blond hair. "Yes."

"Is there someone who's company you enjoy?"

I think about conversations about fireworks and moments spent assuring each other that everything will be okay. "Yes."

"Is there someone that makes you giddy when he's around you?"

I think about how I can't stop smiling when he smiles at me and how much I love holding him and kissing him, even if it's only on his cheek. "Yes."

"Then you like someone," Alice giggles. I smile and blush. "Who is it?" she presses eagerly. Then she gasps, "It's Cary, isn't it?" I blush harder and hide my face behind my bangs. She squeals, "I knew it!" and claps her hands excitedly. "Oh my God, and it's so cute because, I mean, no offense, but you guys are both short and that's just so adorable!"

I laugh. "If you say so. But I only met him, like, three days ago!"

"You don't have to know someone for a long time to like them." I roll my eyes, but smile at her. "Do you think Joe likes me back?"

"Are you kidding? You should've seen his face when you bit his neck earlier. He totally froze up. He's got it _bad_."

She giggles. "I think Cary likes you, too."

I shake my head. "You're just saying that because I said Joe likes you."

"No, I mean it! When you left at the diner earlier? He kept looking over to see if you were coming back. And when you were talking to us, when you weren't looking at him, he kept stealing glances. And he's always smiling when he's talking to you. He totally likes you." I'm still doubtful, but I smile at he anyway, and she does the same.

**[I would totally love some reviews, just so you know. Hope you liked it!]**


	8. Chapter 7

"Hey, you know what we should do?" I ask Alice.

"What?"

"We should go shopping! I actually have tons of money, a lot of it in cash, thankfully. Besides, I feel bad taking your clothes."

"First of all, don't feel bad; it's no big deal. Second, we totally should go shopping! I don't have much saved up, but it's probably enough for a pair of shoes or something."

I ride on her pegs again to the mall. It's a little far, but we don't mind. The whole time we talk about the boys. Alice thinks Charles is a little bossy, and Preston's kind of a know-it-all. Cary kind of scares her with his obsession with fire, but she doesn't mind all that much. I tell her I like that he's obsessed with fire. Then I tell her about all the books on guns in his bookshelf, and how cute I think his slight lisp is. I tell her that I think Joe's makeup skills are really great, and she agrees. She says that she likes how intense he looks when he's applying it.

"He's probably more focused on your face than the makeup," I half-joke. We laugh. Alice parks her bike by the doors at the mall and we head in.

"What should we do about them?" she asks as we browse through one of the shops. "The boys."

"I don't plan on doing anything until the Air Force stuff blows over," I tell her.

"I guess that makes sense for you."

"I think you should do that, too. I mean, it's kind of intense. I feel like now isn't the best time."

"That's true," she agrees. "So we both wait until after the Air Force leaves?"

"More or less. I don't know what I'm doing after they leave; I don't even know if I'll be staying here."

"Oh," she frowns, "right."

"Alice?" a guy's voice says as we're walking out of the store. We both turn around.

"Oh no," Alice grumbles.

"Alice, baby!" The guy grins and holds his arms out as if to hug her.

"Go away, Chad," Alice backs away from him, annoyed.

"Aw, come on, Allie!" he insists. He grabs her arm.

Alice tries to pull away, but he holds tight. "Let me go," she demands.

"Naw, I'm good."

"Chad, let go of me!" Alice shouts.

"Hey," I butt in. "She said let her go!"

"Who's your friend, Allie?"

"None of your business," I answer for her. "Now let her go before I make you."

"You can't make me do anything, pipsqueak," he taunts.

"Wanna bet?"

He pulls Alice towards him and wraps an arm around her waist. Alice protests and tries to pull away, but his grip is too strong. "Yes."

"Alright, you asked for it." I jump up and drop kick him in the chest, making him let go of Alice and stumble backward.

"Why you little–" he snarls and jumps at me. I dodge his punch and grab his arm before spinning around and pulling him over my shoulder and onto the ground.

I crouch next to him and growl lowly, "Pay up, asshole." Then I get back up and drag Alice away.

"I – um, wow," Alice says, bewildered. "Uh, thanks?"

"No problem," I brush it off.

We shop at a few more stores before going back to her house. I end up buying a pair of jeans, a pair of shorts, a The Knack t-shirt, a light blue tank top, a pair of Chucks, and a leather jacket. Alice also buys Converse, and I buy her a shirt. I decide to get something for Cary, to thank him for taking me in, so I buy him the new Led Zepplin and Pink Floyd albums that I didn't see on his shelf last night.

Alice and I balance the bags on the handlebars, then I get on her pegs and we head to Cary's house. "Thanks _so much _for the shirt," she thanks me when we arrive. "And for beating up Chad."

I laugh. "No problem, it was fun!" We hug and I grab my bags before she rides away. I quietly run around to the back of Cary's house. The window's already open, so, after making sure the coast is clear, I slip inside and shut it.

"Cary?" I whisper, setting my bags down on my blankets. I hear a tiny gasp from the other side of the bed. I cautiously walk around and see Cary on the floor, crying. "Cary!" I whisper-shout. I crouch next to him and lift his face to mine. "Cary what happened?" I stroke his hair comfortingly. He doesn't say anything. "Is it your parents? Did they hurt you again?" He cries harder, and I know that's a yes. I hug him tightly, but pull away when he winces. He has a cut on his left forearm, glass sticking out.

"Come here." I lift him off the ground and sneak him into the bathroom with me. I study the cut. "There's a shard still stuck in it," I inform him. "I'm going to pull it out, okay?" He nods, tears staining his red cheeks. I slowly pull the glass out, being careful not to break it or cut his arm anymore. Cary winces several times, but other than that, he does very well.

When it's out, I toss it in the trashcan. I turn on the sink to cold. "Run your arm under the cold water; that'll help it stop bleeding." While he does that, I take out my mini First-Aid kit and pull out some disinfectant, bandage, tape, and a needle and thread. When the bleeding has stopped, I carefully dab his arm dry with a towel, then stitch it up. Next, I apply the disinfectant, wrap the bandage around, and tape it.

"There," I say softly when I'm finished and my kit is put away. "All better." He sniffles again, but nods. My hands find their way to the sides of his face, and I pull his head down to kiss his forehead. "Come on." I take his hand and lead him back to his room, shutting his door behind me. I sit on his bed against his headboard and he curls up next to me, his head in my lap. I stroke his hair absentmindedly.

Thank God his dad is coming in a few days. I can't stand seeing Cary like this, and I don't think Cary can take much more of this.

"My mom's gone," Cary's raspy voice breaks me from my thoughts. "My step dad came home and said she disappeared. He got mad at me for it and threw his beer bottle at me." He's crying again and I continue running my fingers through his soft hair.

"Shh… It's okay. It'll all be over soon, I promise."

He turns his head to look at me. "How do you know?"

I sigh. "I was going to surprise you, but I think you need a little hope. When I left this morning while we were filming? I made a call to find your dad. I called again at the diner, and the guy gave me your dad's number. Then I called your dad. He said he wouldn't come get you if your mom was still there, so I told him your mom was dead. He's meeting us at the diner, noon in two days."

Cary sits up and stares at me in disbelief. "You called my dad?" I nod. "And he's coming here?" I nod again. "In two days?" he squeaks this time. I smile and nod. Suddenly, Cary gathers me in a tight hug. "Thank you," he whispers. I hug him back, still smiling.

**[Review and I'll give you a cookie?]**


	9. Chapter 8

"I got you something else," I tell Cary after pulling away from the hug. I reach down and grab the bag with the records and hand it to him.

"You went shopping?" he questioned.

"Yeah, Alice and I did. I got some clothes, bought her a shirt, and got you these. Go on, open it."

He turns to sit on the edge of the bed, legs hanging over the side, and pulls out the Led Zepplin record, first. "Aw, man, seriously?" he exclaims happily. "How'd you know?"

"Didn't see it in your collection."

He pulls out the other record, next. "Gnarly!" He exclaims. He puts it down and looks at me. "You didn't have to do this."

I giggle. "I know. I wanted to."

He smiles at me as if I'm a puzzle he just can't quite put together, but one that brings him joy all the same. "You're amazing," he says. Then he blushes and looks away, as if not believing the words came out of his mouth.

I giggle and scoot closer to him, hugging him from behind. "So are you," I whisper in his ear. I feel him shiver.

"Not really…"

I pull away. "Why do you say that?"

He shrugs. "I'm just… nothing special. I'm not involved in the Air Force, I don't have top-secret information, I don't have connections to practically everything, I don't help people. The only thing special about me is that I'm short and I like to blow shit up."

"Hey," I grab his chin and turn his head to face me. "That can be pretty special. You can fit in small places, and, trust me, that comes in handy. And I bet nobody in this whole town – other than police and war veterans or something, of course – knows guns like you do. I bet you're the only one in this whole town that can make an M-80 out of cherry bombs. I bet–" I'm cut off when I suddenly feel his lips on mine.

Wait, what? He pulls away before I have a chance to react. "Shit, oh my God. Kill, shit, I-I'm so sorry. I didn't – I mean – I just–"

"Cary!" That shuts him up. "It's okay," I tell him.

"No, it's not. I mean, I-I barely know you and–"

"I like you, too," I blurt.

"What?"

"I like you, too," I repeat. Then I sigh. "The only problem is… I mean, all this stuff. I don't know what's going to happen. After your dad comes back and after all this Air Force stuff blows over, I don't know what'll happen to me. I wasn't going to say anything because I didn't want to have to leave after…" I trail off.

"I'm sorry," he says again.

"Stop apologizing. I'm the one who should be sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I just want it to end. I want to be able to stay in one place for a while and make connections. But my uncle… we're always moving around. I want it to stop so I can stay here with you and Alice and the guys. I wish that the – I wish my uncle would die so that I wouldn't have to be with him anymore."

Cary reaches up and brushes away tears I didn't realize were falling. "You wanna know what I wish?" he asks softly.

"What?" He starts singing "Let It Be" by The Beatles. I choke out a laugh. "You're an awful singer," I tell him jokingly.

"I know." He smirks. "But did it work?"

Instead of answering, I kiss him again, making sure this time to savor it. As he kisses back, I focus on the way his lips feel, and the way his braces scratch every-so-lightly on my lips. I focus on the way his arms wrap tighter around my waist, his hands gripping my shirt, and the way his hair feels in my hands. When we pull away, I focus on his blue eyes, the way they're half-lidded and slightly darker than before. I focus on the way his long bangs brush my nose when he sets his forehead against mine.

"Wow," he breathes. I bite my lip shyly. I don't know what it is about him that makes me so nervous and giddy, but I'm starting to like it more and more.

"Cary!" an angry voice shouts from somewhere in the house.

"Shit," Cary's eyes widen. "Go, get out the window, quick!"

"What? No, I'm not leaving you to deal with him!"

"CARY!" the voice is louder, and getting closer.

"Dammit, Kill, leave!" Cary whisper-shouts. He starts shoving the makeshift bed and my bags under the bed, then turns back to me. Practically growling in frustration, he throws open the window and starts pushing me out. "Go!" I hear his bedroom door slam open just as the window is shut behind me.

When I look back, Cary's back is pressed against the window, as if to block me from view, and I see his step dad furiously approaching him. I'm momentarily frozen in horror as Cary is picked up by his neck and thrown onto the bed. I can hear shouting, but can't make out the words. I'm snapped out of my trance when Cary's step dad backhands Cary across the face. I try to open the window, but it's stuck, so I sprint as fast as my fractured knee will let me to the front of the house. I barge through the door and run through the house, pulling out my gun and loading it. When I get to Cary's door, I kick it down and point the gun at his step dad's head.

"FREEZE!" I shout at him. He looks up, but doesn't stop strangling Cary with his one hand, and doesn't put down the broken beer bottle. Cary's head is bleeding; his step dad must've broken the bottle on his head. "Put the bottle down and let go of him."

"Who the fuck are you?" he slurs.

"Someone who has the means and motive to kill you if you don't do as I say," I growl, cocking my gun. "Now let. Him. Go," I order. "Slowly."

He scowls, but obeys. Keeping the gun and my eyes trained on him, I make my way over to Cary and pull him off the bed. He's crying and choking and coughing all at once. "Now get out," I tell his step dad. He slowly stumbles around us and I keep my gun trained on him until he's left.

Cary breaks down as soon as the door is shut. I drop my gun and go to him, holding him tightly. After a few minutes he's calmed down and I go to the walkie-talkie on his desk. "Come in, Joe," I say into it. "Joe, are you there?"

After a minute, he answers. "This is Joe."

"This is Killian. Are you home?"

"Yes, why?"

"Cary and I need to come over; it's an emergency. Is your dad home?"

"Yeah, he and a bunch of other police guys are here."

"Fine. Can we come over?"

"Sure, I guess."

"Be there in ten," I tell him, then put the talkie away. Silently, I drape Cary's arm around my neck and he doesn't protest as I lead him through the house, safely past his dad, and out the door.

**[Aww, Cary, you poor baby! Please review!]**


	10. Chapter 9

Joe is mortified when he opens the door and sees the state Cary is in. "What happened?!" he exclaims.

"We need to use your bathroom." I ignore his question and brush past him into the house. "Will you go get your dad, please? And bring a First Aid kit."

"I, um, okay."

I find my way to the bathroom and have Cary sit on the counter. I grab a rag from a cabinet and wet it, then start gently removing the blood that is dripping down the side of his face.

"Here." Joe sets the kit on the counter and moves into the bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid.

"What the hell happened?" Joe's dad is in the doorway, looking at Cary with an expression of concern and disbelief.

"His step dad," I tell him, still tending to Cary's wounds.

"His step dad did this?"

"Yes. He's been doing it for about five years, along with Cary's mom. Although, from what Cary's told me, it's never been this bad. His step dad would've killed him had I not been there."

"I find that hard to believe," Joe's dad says. "I think I would've known if one of my son's friends was being abused."

"I definitely would've noticed," Joe adds.

"Not if, one, Cary was very good at hiding it and, two, this parents were careful to not leave marks that were visible." I put down the rag and carefully remove Cary's shirt. Again, he doesn't protest.

Joe and his dad both gasp when they see the bruises, some new and some old. "Cary," Joe chokes out. "Why didn't you say anything?" Cary doesn't answer, and instead looks down. "We could've helped you."

I flash Cary a sympathetic smile as I open the First Aid kit and pull out a few butterfly closures and the disinfectant. I swipe on the disinfectant and tape two of the butterfly closures over the cut, then put everything away and close up the kit. Cary hops down, but doesn't go anywhere.

I turn to Joe's dad. "He didn't say anything because his parents threatened to do worse to him than they have been. Actually, that's probably why most abused kids don't tell anyone. Now look, I called you in here so you can go arrest his step dad. His mom went missing earlier today, so don't worry about her for now. I called Cary's real dad today, and he'll be here in two days. Can we stay here until then?"

He stands there in shock for a minute, then shakes his head as if coming out of a trance. "Wait, why do you need to stay here? Who are you?"

"I've been staying with Cary temporarily, since I don't currently have anyone else to stay with. I promise I'll be gone as soon as Cary's dad gets here and all this Air Force stuff blows over."

"Why the Air Force stuff?" Shit. "Wait a second, I thought I recognized you. You're Colonel Nelec's niece, aren't you?" He reaches out to grab me. "You're coming with me."

"No!" I pull away from him. "He can't know I'm here. If he finds out, he'll kill me _and_ anyone I've been in contact with. That includes, you, your son, and our friends. I don't doubt you're looking into what they're doing already, and I bet they've been trying to cover everything up, right?" He nods. "Then you're already in danger. I need to hide until they leave. As long as he doesn't know I'm here, all of you will be safe. I _promise_."

"You're asking me to withhold information about you from not only the military, but your guardian as well?"

"Yes!"

He considers this for a moment. "Do you know what he's planning?"

"To an extent."

"Tell me what he's planning and I'll let you stay here and I won't say anything to the Colonel."

"You can't tell anyone else either, about me or whatever I tell you."

"What about the rest of the police force?"

"Can they keep it secret?"

"Yes."

"Deal. But for now, can we take care of Cary's situation?"

He hesitates, but nods. "I'll head over to his house now. And Cary, I don't think I need to tell you not to light anything on fire." He turns and stalks back down the hallway.

"So you'll tell my dad everything, just like that, but won't tell us anything?" Joe questions.

I point to him, "Child," then I point out the door, "adult policeman."

Joe rolls his eyes. "Fine." Then he focuses his attention on Cary. "You okay, Cary?"

Cary doesn't answer. I take his face in my hands and lift his head. "Cary?" He looks at me, his lower lip trembling. "Hey, Cary, it's okay now. You're mom and step dad can't hurt you anymore, and your dad will be here in two days. Everything's okay."

"But what if my mom comes back and finds me?" He starts hyperventilating. "What if my step dad isn't at the house and he comes back for me? What if he escapes from jail? What if my real dad doesn't really come? What if my real dad turns out to be just like my mom and step dad?"

"Cary!" He looks at me again. "I swear to God I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

"But you have to leave after the Air Force does."

"I'll find a way to stay, if you really want me to," I tell him, brushing his blood-tipped bangs out of his face. He sighs in relief and nods, then hugs me.

"I'm just gonna… go." Joe brushes past us.

I pull away and Cary moves his hands to my face. "You know that feeling when you didn't know you needed something until you have it?" I consider his question for a moment, but, before I can come to a conclusion, he kisses me. I sigh and kiss him back, letting him push me up against the countertop. "Thank you," he whispers against my lips. I open my mouth to respond, but his tongue enters my mouth and I gasp. His hands move down my body to wrap around my waist and I slide my hands up his abdomen and chest to tangle in his hair, not caring that it's bloody.

"You guys want something to eat?" I hear Joe call from somewhere in the house.

We pull away, breathless, and smile at each other. "Come on," I giggle. I fix his hair a bit, straighten my shirt, help him get his shirt back on, and then we head down the hall.

**[Whoop! Make out session aw yiss. Review?]**


	11. Chapter 10

After Cary's step dad is arrested, I decide that Cary and I will just stay at his house until his dad gets here; we don't need to stay at Joe's place. When we get back to Cary's, we clean up the mess Cary's step dad left, grab a bite to eat, then I help Cary wash the blood out of his hair. Now I'm sitting on Cary's lap, watching him make an M-80 while the Led Zepplin album I bought him plays on the record.

"You getting tired yet?" I ask after a while.

"That depends," he answers, setting his things down.

"On what?" I look up at him and smile.

I squeal when he lifts me up and carries me like a princess to his bed. I'm surprised he has enough strength to do that after everything he's been through today. "On whether or not you can sleep up here with me."

I giggle when I plop down. "I think I can manage that."

"Then, yes. I'm exhausted." He winks and pecks me on the lips, but I sit up before he can do anything else.

"I'm gonna change, then." I grab the clothes I wore last night, then go to change in the bathroom. When I return, Cary is shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweats. I hop into bed with him after turning all the lights off, other than the lamp on his nightstand.

We lay here silently for a few minutes, then I look at the bruise forming on Cary's neck and sigh. "What is it?" he asks.

"You almost died today," I state, rolling over so that I'm leaning over him.

"But I didn't," he smiles. "Thanks to you." He brushes a lock of my hair behind my ear and kisses my nose. I giggle.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't think I've been more okay in my entire life."

"Even with…" I gently stroke my hand down his face, starting from the cut on his forehead, across his black eye, to his bruised neck.

"Yeah," he replies. I lean in and kiss each of those wounds as softly as I can. He tenses a little at each one, but doesn't stop me. I move the blankets back and look at the bruises on his chest. I glance up at his face, but his eyes are closed, so I lean down and softly kiss each bruise. As I move down to his abdomen, I feel him tense slightly, but I keep going. He inhales sharply when I kiss the bruise on his hipbone.

"You okay?" I ask him as I crawl back up to his face.

"Yeah," he exhales the breath he was holding. He opens his eyes and I see that his pupils are slightly dilated.

I kiss his lips this time. "Let's sleep now."

"Sounds good," he agrees, still slightly out of breath.

Cary and I sleep in until noon, when Charles calls. He says that they're going to film outside Woodward's house where a bunch of Air Force guys are searching through his stuff. He says it'd be good production value. So while Cary goes to work the camera, I go to talk to Joe's dad.

"So what is the Colonel planning?" he asks. "What was on the train?"

"I'm not sure what was on it," I lie. "They call it their 'precious cargo'. And if they don't get it back, they'll initiate what they call Operation Walking Distance."

"What's that?"

"It has something to do with evacuating the town so they can search for it."

"Okay then." He clears his throat. "Anything else you can tell me?"

I shake my head. "Sorry, but I'm not exactly on the inside circle or anything."

"That's alright. The information you gave me is quite enough." He stands up and I follow suit. "I won't tell your uncle anything about you, you have my word."

"Thank you," I sigh, relieved. He gets up to leave and I decide to walk around town a bit.

I buy a soda at the gas station, then wander aimlessly until I find myself on the hill above the train crash. I lie down and close my eyes, basking in the warm sunlight. I'm thinking about how much I love how the days here aren't too hot, when suddenly I'm shaken away. I open my eyes to see Cary's face above me, looking slightly worried.

"Jesus, Kill, are you okay?"

I sit up, then notice that it's almost sunset. "Shit. I must've fallen asleep."

"Yeah, don't do that again. I've been freaking out looking for you all day."

"Aw, were you worried about me?" I tease as I pinch his cheeks.

"Shut up!" he grumbles.

I giggle and kiss him quickly. "Come on, let's go home."

We stay up late that night, since Charles didn't say they were filming any scenes tomorrow. This time, Cary teaches me how to make an M-80 out of cherry bombs. After a few failed attempts, we take a break to listen to "My Sharona" and dance around, just like the first night I was here. Then we try the M-80 again. A few more failed attempts, then I finally get it right.

Cary kisses me to congratulate me and I blush. Then we take his firecrackers outside and light them up. We have to stop, though, when a neighbor sticks his head out to tell us to cut it out. So we go back inside and listen to more music.

We finally retire to bed around three. In Cary's shirt and sweats, I curl up next to him and lay my head on his chest. The beating of his heart is like a lullaby, and I fall asleep in minutes.

We don't wake the next day until we hear sirens in the late morning.

"What the hell?" I scoff, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I walk groggily to the front of the house, looking out the window: people are being loaded onto military trucks and buses.

Shit.

Operation Walking Distance is in effect.

**[Oh snap. Leave a review?]**


	12. Chapter 11

"Cary, you have to leave," I say when I'm back in the bedroom.

He sits up groggily. "What?"

"Evacuation, you gotta go." I grab his bag and toss it at him, then go to his dresser and pick out a red t-shirt and red pants and toss them to him. He still hasn't moved. "Come on, Cary!"

Once we're both dressed, I lead him towards the front door. "Now go."

"Wait," he turns back to me, "are you not coming?"

"It's an Air Force evacuation. They can't know I'm here. I'll be fine, just go. I'll see you after it's all over"

"But–"

"Go!" I kiss him quickly and shove him towards the door.

He grabs the handle, but doesn't turn it. Instead, he turns back to me and kisses me. This one lasts several seconds, and I make sure to savor it, before he pulls away. "Be careful," he tells me.

"You too." Then he's gone.

I wait two hours, then hear the front door break down. Shit. I quickly gather my things and escape out the window.

There are still trucks everywhere. I need to find someplace secluded. I wander around for another two hours, trying to stay hidden, until I find the middle school, completely isolated from everything else. I jump the fence and try the doors: locked. I pull out my kit and pick the lock, then find a classroom.

As the hours pass, I keep checking the windows to make sure the coast is clear. When it's nearly dark, I sit at a desk and lay my head down. I think about Cary and his friends – my friends; I hope they're okay. I think about the "precious cargo"; I hope it's safe and preparing to go home. I think about my uncle; I hope his "precious cargo" has eaten him.

"—_Idiots_ do that!" I familiar voice echoes down the hall and into the room. Charles?

Someone breaks the window in the door and turns the knob from the inside. The door opens to reveal Joe, Charles, Martin, and Cary, all holding boxes. They stop in their tracks when they see me. "Killian?" Joe says.

"What are you doing here?" Charles asks.

"I thought you were back at the house!" Cary adds, making his way over to me. He sets his box on the counter and hugs me.

"They broke in. I snuck out the window. Everywhere else was swarming with Air Force; this was the only place they weren't searching."

"Well that's dumb, because this is where Dr. Woodward's research is," Joe tells me, setting his box down.

"What?!" I exclaim.

"Y-yeah, it was in his trailer," Joe says, confused. "We know what it is. We got it on film. It took Alice last night. We need to learn everything about it so we can save her."

"It took Alice?" I choke out. Joe nods, then starts to set everything up. He turns on the projector and we watch a film.

"'Dr. Woodward," Joe reads from a file, "was dishonorably discharged from Nellis Air Force Base in 1963 because of subversive conduct'. Whatever that is.

"Charles check it out," Martin says, handing a photo to Charles. "It's old man Woodward."

"Back when he was, like, middle-aged-man Woodward," Charles marvels.

"He's been tracking this thing since 1958," Martin tells us.

"What is this?" Joe asks, staring at the projection.

Charles answers, "It says, 'April 8th, 1963 incident'. I dunno."

Something beeps and I glance up from my file to find that Cary's playing a game.

"Cary!" Joe scolds.

"What?" Cary says absentmindedly.

"We need to find this thing, come on!" Joe orders as I smack Cary's arm lightly.

"Okay, sorry." Cary puts the game away. He puts a cassette into the tape deck and hits play before pulling out a file.

After a few seconds, I put down my file and just watch the film while listening to the tape. Eventually, the others all put down their files as well. Then, on the film, the alien grabs Dr. Woodward.

"Oh my God!" Cary shouts as the others exclaim. "What is that thing?"

"I can't watch this." Martin turns away.

We watch and listen for another minute in shocked silence, then Joe stands. "He wasn't trying to kill it," he realizes.

"He was trying to help it escape!" Charles finishes. He turns to me. "Did you know all of this?"

"All I know is that it wants to go home and that it's only harmful now because Nelec trapped it."

Suddenly, there's a crash from the hallway. "Did you hear that?" Martin whispers. We turn everything off and wait, listening.

The door crashes open and armed soldiers burst into the room. "Shit!" I yell. The boys are all shouting as the soldiers order us to put our hands up, then the soldiers lead us out into the hall.

Then, the worst happens: I see my uncle marching down the hallway towards us with two other soldiers. He freezes for a moment when he sees me, but then continues in our direction even faster than before. "Search 'em," he orders quickly to the other soldiers. Then he grabs my jacket and shoves me against the lockers.

"Hey!" Cary shouts, launching himself at my uncle. "Let her go!"

My uncle shoves him back and he falls to the ground. "It's okay, Cary," I reassure him, holding my hand out. "It's okay." Then I look back at my uncle.

He's silent, only glaring at me.

"Let me see that," a soldier says to Cary.

I glance over at him as he's handing over his backpack. The soldier opens it and pulls out some of Cary's M-80s. "I made those M-80s myself," he tells the soldier proudly. The soldier looks at him funny. "That's right," Cary adds. He glances at me and winks, and I smirk before looking back at my uncle.

"You're in a world of trouble when we get out of this," he growls.

"Oh really?" I say coyly. I push him off me. "Because I don't think you'll last that long. I think your 'precious cargo' is going to kill you before the night is over." He backhands me and I fall to the floor. When I look up, Cary's struggling to get out of a soldier's grip and get to me, worry written all over his face. I touch my finger to my lip: it's bleeding. I laugh darkly at my uncle and stand up. "You like to play dirty, and that won't land you at the top. Give up now, Nelec, and maybe you won't be eaten."

"Shut up, you little bitch!" he snarls, nostrils flaring. He grabs me by my hair and drags me down the hallway. "Move out!" he shouts to his soldiers. We're all led onto a bus with a closed-off section in the back. My uncle throws me in after emptying my pockets of all my supplies and I fall to the floor.

Cary rushes to my side as soon as he's inside. "Oh my God, Kill." He sits me up and takes my face in his hands. "Are you okay?"

I laugh. "I'll be _peachy_ if that asshole dies tonight!" I spit loud enough for my uncle to hear. I smirk when he stops, tensing, but doesn't turn to face me. Cary helps me up and into a seat, then takes the one next to me. Once we're all buckled in, Cary takes my hand, and we're off.

**[Let me know what you thought by reviewing, please!]**


	13. Chapter 12

"What's gonna happen to us?" Charles asks after several minutes of silence.

"I think we're gonna die," Cary answers, wringing his hands nervously.

"Shut up man," Martin whimpers. "Th-they wouldn't do that."

"I'm not kidding," Cary continues. "I think they're gonna kill us."

"He's probably right," I tell them. "We know too much." I let my head fall in my hands. "I never should've brought any of you into this."

"Hey," Cary rubs a hand on my back. "Don't apologize; it's not your fault. They're the ones doing it."

"And anyway," Charles says, "They're not gonna kill us. You know why?"

"Why?" Joe presses.

"Because we're just–" Charles is cut off when something big rams into the side of the bus. We all scream as we're now driving on the right tires.

When the bus finally falls back on all wheels and comes to a stop, we all try to catch our breaths.

"What's that gun?" Charles asks. I glance up and see my uncle loading a rifle.

"Sako Bolt Action thirty-aut-six Leathwood Art Scope–" Cary throws out.

"Okay," Charles interrupts. "We get it." I ruffle Cary's hair, impressed.

"Those aren't bullets," Cary continues. "He's loading tracking darts."

"I don't feel good about this," Charles says, standing up.

Nelec hands the gun to another soldier and orders him to tag it. "Coward," I mutter.

The soldier slowly inches forward, then turns back when he gets to the door. "Is there anywhere in particular you want me to–" The soldier is cut off when the alien reaches in and pulls him out.

We all scream again, and Martin projectile vomits all over the floor. "Oh my God, Martin!" Cary screams, annoyed.

"There's a monster out there, Joe!" Charles exclaims.

Suddenly, the bus is pushed from the side and falls over. Charles falls onto Joe, and I onto Martin, but Cary is still stuck in his seatbelt.

"Guys, the seatbelt, it's killing me!" Cary cries out. We all try to get him out as quickly as we can.

Joe goes over to the door, where Nelec is trying to open it – more likely to lock himself in with us than to get us out. "Please, open the door!" Joe shouts at him, just as the driver is taken out of his seat by the alien.

"Another one, _dead_!" Charles turns away.

Joe backs away from the door and looks around, then up. "Guys! There's broken glass! Martin, let me get on your shoulders." Once he's up, he slams his elbow repeatedly against the glass and we all shout encouragements at him.

"Come on," Cary shouts. "Break the glass, you pussy!" The glass breaks and shards fall down, but I don't think any of us were cut. Joe climbs out first, then Martin, Charles, and Cary. But just before I climb out, I see my uncle pressed against the door, the alien slowly crawling towards him.

"Go!" I whisper-shout to the boys. "Go, I'll be fine!"

"What? No!" Cary protests.

"Dammit, Cary, don't you ever listen. Just go!"

The others drag him away and I crouch behind one of the seats, hoping the alien doesn't see me. I peek over the seat in time to see my uncle drop his gun… and the alien surges forward, eating his face. I can only stare in shock, and I'm too late to move back when the alien looks right at me. We hold our gazes for several seconds before he backs out of the bus and crawls away. I breathe out a sigh of relief.

A few minutes later, I see Cary's head pop in through the window. "Oh my God, Killian," he sighs. He helps me out and hugs me as soon as I'm on top of the bus with him. "You scared me to death; I thought he'd gotten you!"

"Well, he didn't," I tell him, brushing his hair out of his face. "I'm fine, so there's nothing to worry about." I kiss him softly.

"Woah, wait, what?" Martin says. I look down and find that he saw us kiss. Cary and I both blush. "Weird," Martin adds, looking away.

"What?" Charles asks, looking up at us. Then he realizes. "Oh, okay…" He looks away. Cary and I laugh.

"I'm gonna go look for my backpack," Cary says, standing. He disappears into the bus and I hop down looking at the destruction. Three bodies lay on the ground, dead. Joe pulls his locket from one of the soldier's breast pocket.

"Guys, I found them," I look up and Cary's holding his backpack. "Hey, guys, I found my firecrackers."

"Congratulations," Charles retorts.

"Oh and I found your things, Kill," Cary adds. He hops down and I start shoving everything back in my pockets.

"Let's go, guys, they're coming back," Martin cries. There are headlights driving towards us. "I think we should go come on."

"Look," Joe says, standing up.

The car stops and man, probably early twenties, with long hair and a beard steps out of a car. "Woah!" he exclaims. "You dorks are alive?! I thought that…" He looks around at the scene. "What the _fuck_?"

"Donny!" Joe grabs his attention. "We need a ride into town."

"Okay, but just so you know I am massively stoned right now."

Joe hesitates. "Do you want me to drive?" Donny nods and we all get in. Charles, Cary, and Martin climb in back and Donny sits between Joe and me in the front.

"Where are we going?" Cary asks after a while.

"I saw something at the cemetery," Joe replies. "Woodward said it was subterranean. I think I know where it is."

Suddenly, a tank rolls over ahead of us. "What the hell is that?!" Cary screams. "Move the damn car!"

Joe makes a sharp turn and we stop in a steep driveway. "Turn the car around!" Martin orders.

"I can't there's a tank behind us," Joe tells him. He tries to wake up Donny, with no luck.

"He's too stone!" Cary shouts.

"Drugs are so bad," Martin cries.

We all jump out of the car, leaving Donny there, and run through the neighborhood, being careful to avoid the tanks and soldiers. We run through a park and into a random house. "Come on guys move!" Joe shouts as we sprint up a flight of stairs.

"Did you guys see those explosions?" Cary blurted. "Th-they were huge!"

"Yes, Cary, they were very nice explosions," I say sarcastically.

When we get to the kitchen, Cary leans against the counter top to catch his breath. "Oh my God."

Almost too hot to function, I open the freezer, which is surprisingly still cold, and stick my head in. "Oh, that's nice," I sigh. I hear Cary laugh at me and feel him pat my back.

"Whose house is this?" Martin asks.

Cary grabs a piece of paper off the fridge and hands it to him. "It's Cathy's; I got it off the fridge."

"Cathy?" Martin adjusts his glasses. "Yeah, I know her. Charles what are you thinking, dude, that's not yours!" I shut the freezer and look over to see Charles drinking a random bottle of soda.

"What, I'm thirsty and I'm in a war zone!"

"Guys come on let's go," Joe orders, leading us out of the kitchen.

"Where are we going?" Charles demands.

"To the cemetery, I'm pretty–" Joe is cut off when the wall is blown out, knocking us all to the ground.

**[Won't you please review?]**


	14. Chapter 13

We all cough and sputter, trying to get the dust out of our lungs. "What happened to my leg, man, it hurts!" Martin sobs.

Charles goes over to look at it. "Holy shit, Martin, you've got a bone sticking out!"

"There's a hole in the house!" Cary shouts.

"We know, Cary, shut up!" I scream at him, still coughing.

"Joe," Charles says. "Give me that thing off the curtain."

Joe does what he's told, then says, "I gotta go find Alice; you gotta stay here with Martin."

Charles stands up. "You gonna be okay without me?"

Joe nods. "Yeah."

Cary runs up to them. "I'm not staying with these pussies!"

"God, Cary!" Charles gets up in Cary's face. "Shut! Up!"

"Calm! Down!" Cary shoots back.

"Come on, let's go!" Joe shouts. "You too, Killian."

I follow him and Cary through the streets. "Just follow me," Joe pants after several minutes of running.

"We've been following you for the last five blocks," Cary exclaims. "What are we doing here?"

Joe stops at a garage with three doors and starts pulling at them. I have to stop to catch my breath – and rest my knee. "Come on, through these doors," Joe says. "Help me. We have to get inside."

"For what?" Cary asks, helping him.

"I'll tell you in a second," Joe says, moving to the next door.

"Why is there dirt in these windows?" Cary asks. The door doesn't budge. The third door opens like a normal door. The boys try several times to break it down, with no luck.

"Oh my God, move," I groan impatiently. I pull them away by their jacket collars, then drop kick the door down. I turn back to them, brushing off my jeans.

"That was so hot," Cary gapes.

"Nice," Joe adds. Then we all turn to the garage to see a large hole in the ground.

"Woah," Cary breathes. "This is scary."

"You got any sparklers in there?" Joe asks Cary.

Cary looks up at Joe, as if not believing his own ears. "Are you kidding me?" He grins his crooked grin and I ruffle his hair. He dumps out his backpack full of fireworks, lights a sparkler, and hands it to Joe, who drops it down into the hole.

"Alice is down there," Joe says quietly when the sparkler hits the bottom.

"So is your mom, Cary," I tell him. "Unless it already ate her."

We find some rope and climb down into the hole. Joe lights another sparkler, looking around at the multitude of tunnels. "Joe," Cary says. "I don't understand–"

"Shh…" We listen until we hear a sort of clanking noise. "This way," Joe whispers. Cary and I share a glance before following him.

We weave through the tunnels. At one point we come across another hole leading from a living room. We pass under it and keep going. Eventually we end up at the end of a tunnel, where it leads out into a large space with all kinds of things littered around. I glance at Cary and see that he's staring, horrified, at a policeman hanging from the ceiling. Joe covers his mouth and pulls him away.

"It's Sheriff Pruitt!" Cary whispers once Joe lets go.

"There are bodies everywhere," Joe observes.

"What is this place?" Cary asks.

"We're under the water tower, look." Joe nods his head toward the large pipe in the middle of the space. He looks around. "She's gotta be here, she's gotta be here."

Suddenly, we see the alien. It's holding half a body in its large, three-fingered hands. "Oh my God," I breathe.

"That's… that's my mom…" Cary whispers. "It's eating my mom!"

"You're making it sound like that's a bad thing," I mumble.

"It's not. I just… their both gone now… I just can't believe it…" I squeeze his shoulder comfortingly.

"She's here," Joe says suddenly. "Oh my God, I see her." We look over to see Alice hanging from the ceiling, just like the others. "Cary, we're gonna use your firecrackers."

"I-I don't think that's gonna hurt him, Joe."

"There's other tunnels."

"So?"

"I need you to make noise. Right here, in two minutes. Make it loud and make it last." Then he adds, "Give me some sparklers." Cary, still staring at the alien, pulls out a few sparklers and hands them to Joe. "Make sure you guys are gone when it blows; you can't be here, you gotta run."

Cary looks back as Joe gets up and runs away. "Where are you going?"

"We're going to create a distraction here so he can use one of the other tunnels to get to Alice," I explain. "Now get out your fireworks, quick. I'll keep watch." I keep and eye on the alien – and Alice – while Cary dumps out his backpack.

Once Cary's laid everything out, he pulls out his lighter. As I hear him try to get the thing to light, I see the alien grab Alice. "Cary, hurry, it's got Alice!"

"I'm trying," he grunts frantically. "The damn thing won't light!"

I give him another couple of seconds – he still can't get it to light. I scoff and turn around. "Give it here." I snatch the lighter out of his hands and light it on the first try. As soon as the fuse is lit, I help Cary up, he grabs his backpack, and we run.

We hear the crackling of the fireworks and less than a minute passes before the alien is right around the corner. "Shit, shit, shit," Cary pants.

"We need to split up," I tell him. "Next time we come to a fork, we have to split."

"O-okay."

I see a fork ahead. "Good luck," I tell Cary.

"You too."

"See you soon."

"I hope."

We split; the alien follows me. I'm relieved at first that Cary's safe, but then I remember my busted knee. It'll slow me down. I push to run faster, but the alien grabs me before I can. I scream. I looks at me a moment, and I look right back at it. Then, as if he hears something, he looks up. He drops me and everything goes black.

**[It's almost over and now I'm sad. How would you guys feel about a sequel? Let me know by reviewing, please!]**


	15. Chapter 14

"Killian. Come on, Kill, please, wake up. Killian!" I feel familiar lips on mine and air enters my lungs. I cough and open my eyes to see Cary's tear-stained face above me. "Oh my God, I thought you died!" he exclaims.

I sit up. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Cary answers, wiping tears from his face. "I came back to look for you after the alien left and you weren't breathing and… Jesus," he hugs me, "I thought you were gone." I barely have a chance to hug him back before he pulls away. "What'd it do? The alien?"

"He…" I have to think about it for a second. "He caught up to me. He picked me up, then dropped me. That was it. Where is it?"

"Going back to his ship," Joe steps up and tells me. "He picked me up, too. I told him to go home. He didn't drop me though…"

I look behind him and see Alice. "Hey, Alice. You okay?" She nods. "We should go."

Joe seems to remember perfectly where we came in, so we just climb back up the rope when we get there and run several blocks until we get into town, where all kinds of metal objects are being drawn to the top of the water tower. All the soldiers are looking around, confused.

"What's it doing?" Cary asks, looking up at the water tower.

"It's making a model…" Joe says in awe, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

We all look down when a jeep pulls up and Joe's dad and another man step out. They look and Alice and Joe – the other man must be Alice's dad – and Alice shifts uncomfortably. Joe's dad grabs Joe's face in his hands, look at his face as if amazed that he's even alive, then he hugs him. Joe seems shocked, because he doesn't hug him back for several seconds.

Alice takes her eyes off Joe and his dad and looks at her dad. An apologetic look is written on his face and Alice silently forgives him with a hug. I smile at them, then look at Cary. He's looking up at the alien ship taking form atop the water tower, but I can tell the tears in his eyes aren't from awe. I reach over and touch his shoulder. His breath quivers as he looks at me, then behind me. Shock fills his eyes now, and I turn around, seeing a man holding a little girl's hand.

I turn back to Cary. "Is that…?"

"Yeah," he croaks happily. "That's my dad and…" He trails off. I turn and find that they've appeared behind me. I step aside as Cary's dad crouches to his son's level.

"Cary…" he says, choking up. "I'm so sorry I left. But–" He's cut off when Cary throws himself into his arms, sobbing happily.

"It's okay, Dad," I hear Cary whisper. He pulls away. "I'm just glad you're back." He turns to the little girl, his sister. "And… Daisy… Look how big you've gotten. And so pretty, too."

"Cary!" she giggles, jumping up and hugging him. "I missed you, bubby."

"I missed you, too, sissy."

"Where's the lady who was supposed to meet with you?" Cary's dad asks.

Cary laughs and stands up next to me, taking my hand. "Except, I wouldn't exactly say she's a lady," he chuckles. "In fact, you're probably as far from a lady as a girl can get."

"Shut up," I mutter, shoving him slightly with my free hand.

"But, you're…" His dad looks very confused.

"I'm a… friend, sort of, of Cary's. I had to lie to get you here, because, well, it was bad. What Cary's mom and step dad were doing. His mother wasn't dead when I called you."

"But she is now," Cary adds. "The alien ate her."

He opens his mouth to answer, but we here an explosion and look up to see that the water tower has imploded, and all the metal objects sticking to it form the base of the alien spaceship. The water rains down, soaking the soldiers. As the ship takes off, the base of the water tower falls. Soldiers jump out of its way as it crushes trucks and tanks.

"Holy shit," Cary whispers, grinning. I reach up and ruffle his dirty hair, not taking my eyes off the ascending spaceship, then kiss the side of his head. He turns towards me, and we look into each other's eyes. His smile fades slightly. "Will you stay?"

I grin at him. "Yes." He brightens again, then kisses my lips. This one's different, though. It's not desperate or sad. It's relieved and thankful, as if nothing whatsoever is wrong at this moment. And it's true, I realize as I kiss him back. Everything in this moment is absolutely perfect.

**[Hope this was a good ending! Please review! I'll post an epilogue, but let me know if you guys want a sequel!]**


	16. Epilogue

For lack of better words: Everything turned out great. Cary got his dad and sister back, and even a wonderful step mom. They all moved here to Lillian because Cary didn't want to leave his friends.

Joe's dad took me in, and we're as happy as any normal family. Alice's dad got his act together, for Alice. He feels so bad for what he did to her. Joe's and Alice's dads made up, too. They didn't want to sabotage their kids' relationship. Speaking of: Joe told Alice that he liked her. He didn't really need to, though. Before he even got a chance to finish telling her, she just kissed him. (I saw the whole thing. Cutest. Thing. Ever. You should've seen his face. Priceless.)

Cary and I are just as happy as Joe and Alice. Not to mention, our relationship is oddly similar to theirs in that we like to sneak to each other's houses at night. (Honestly, I think Joe's dad suspects it, but he doesn't say anything.) Cary's sister once asked Cary and I if we were getting married. I told her, "We'll see," and Cary blushed red as a tomato.

We finished Charles's movie. Joe made another train for them to blow up, so you can imagine Cary was ecstatic. The movie turned out great, and we're waiting now to see if Charles won the contest.

As much as the whole alien experience sucked, I wouldn't have changed anything. It's thanks to all that that everything turned out perfect.


End file.
